


She Goes By Many Names

by purple_pyro



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Canon Compliant, Gen, Halloween event, Mentioned Others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 17:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10926285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_pyro/pseuds/purple_pyro
Summary: She is easy to find if you know where to look, her brewery accessible through any door that she has specially marked. Her magic is nothing to be trifled with, but her most powerful possession is the leather-bound book that rarely leaves its resting spot at her hip. You are always in the middle of the book no matter how many pages you turn, and it seems to know exactly what you’re looking for before you do.A standard day for Mercy, the Witch of the Wilds.





	She Goes By Many Names

She goes by many names. 

Witch of the Wilds.  
The Good Doctor.  
_Sie Hexe._  
Necromancer.  
The Resurrector.  
Angela.  
Mercy. 

She is easy to find if you know where to look, her brewery accessible through any door that she has specially marked. Her magic is nothing to be trifled with, but her most powerful possession is the leather-bound book that rarely leaves its resting spot at her hip. You are always in the middle of the book no matter how many pages you turn, and it seems to know exactly what you’re looking for before you do. The ancient script automatically translates itself from Althochdeutsch, and she skims the text before looking up to her patient. "Your glamour is failing, you said?"

An oni in dark robes stands in the corner, grotesque white mask nodding once in recognition. “It has been 5 years. The standard duration.”

“Illusions were never my forte,” Angela admits flippantly, turning a page. The book already knows what she seeks, and the steps for the spell are listed clearly. Angela takes her staff in hand and twirls it above her head gracefully before slamming the end into the stone floor. Her wings flare, and the golden dust that sparks off the end of her broom wraps around her guest until he is encased in the magic. As it clears, the figure revealed is no longer a demon but a spritely young man. His bright green hair is undeniably eye-catching, and when he raises his hands to his face and trails his fingertips down his cheeks, his handsome, unscarred face smiles briefly. 

It is wiped away as soon as Angela speaks. “I do not see why Zenyatta could not help you instead.”

He looks intrigued by the statement. "I had expected you to know." 

"Your confidence in me is welcomed, but the magical world is too vast to understand every facet. But do tell me, I am entitled to know.” 

“By what means?”

“A life debt, Genji."

"...Just how many people are similarly bound?" Angela doesn’t respond, and the silence is harsh enough to spur Genji into speaking again. "His magic comes from a higher source. Too heavenly to work on a demon."

"Hmm. “ Angela muses about the djinn. Powerful. Limited. Surprisingly gentle. "You no longer seem bitter about it. Give Zenyatta my warmest regards." 

Genji salutes with a fist at his chest with two fingers extended before apparating. The breeze settles, leaving nothing but a brown, speckled feather. "So dramatic." She laughs, making a swooping gesture with her arm. The feather floats up from the ground and tucks itself into a jar on her bookshelf. She’s sure she’ll find a use for it. 

Now. Who is next?

Pharah. The possessed spirit moves as if powered by gears instead of magic, blank eyes unblinking. Her voice is even and low. “You summoned me.”

“I did,” Angela replies cheerily. “Any word on the alchemist?”

“She has been traveling through Europe to restock ingredients. Her encounter with the crusader ghost two days ago left her inventory depleted.”

Angela thinks of her nemesis and scowls. Never before had she seen an anti-magic potion that could negate even her own healing spells. So when she had learned that Ana Amari had a recently deceased daughter, Angela wasted no time flying to Egypt and getting to work. Her resurrection spells were absolutely perfect, and she knew an opportunity when she saw one. “Is she still alone?”

“Yes, though it seems she has kept contact with the soldier.” If Angela were to attack now, she would have the advantage in magic, but the disadvantage in damage. Reaper is currently regrowing and not yet in shape for a fight. The archer and oddity are of lesser concern, though the former seemed to be the most tempted of the four. But her revenge will have to wait. 

“Do keep me updated,” Angela says with a smile, although it really isn’t Pharah’s choice. She will return when summoned, every time, without fail. So loyal, even after death. “You may go. Return to that vampire you like so much.”

Pharah does, and Angela simpers. They fit each other so well, bloodless creatures who dare not enter the light. But the door hasn’t even closed before a new visitor slinks in. 

“Sombra. Greetings.”

" _Hola_ , Angela.” The puppet master saunters over, skeletal tattoos glowing even in the gaps of the candlelight. “It’s been a week.”

“Your invisibility cloak. I haven’t forgotten, you’re simply impatient.” 

“Augh. I really do need it for work, you know.” What Sombra actually does is a mystery to Angela, though she doesn’t care to know anyway. “Can’t believe that spider woman shot me.”

“Ultraviolet vision, a specialty of Arachne’s descendants.” Angela remarks, reattaching her book to her hip before turning away to fetch Sombra’s cloak. “The patch job was rather simple, luckily for you.”

“And still your prices are so high. What would you say to a trade instead? One dead-raiser to another.”

Angela hums, not considering it at all. She prefers her servants with skin and a bit of personality, instead of mindless skeletons. Still, she throws Sombra a bit of hope. “While I prefer my own technique, your method of reviving the deceased is not without its benefits. No need for a fresh corpse.” 

“Yeah, you have something like an eight-day window, right?” Sombra says, and Angela frowns. There is absolutely nobody she would trust with even a hint of her resurrection magic, and that Sombra has figured out its biggest limitation puts her on edge. Sombra picks up on it instantly. “ _Relajárte_ , it was simply a pattern I noticed.”

Perceptive as ever. Angela sighs and opens a closet, where a rich violet cloak hangs from a hook. She folds it in thirds and returns to the front of the room, where Sombra has stepped forward in anticipation. She nearly snatches the cloak from Angela’s hands and throws it around her slim shoulders with a flourish, grinning. Sombra pulls the hood up and curls her fingers in a wave, flickering like a violet flame before vanishing. “ _Perfecta_ , she purrs, and in a fit of spite, the witch reaches forwards and flicks where she predicts Sombra’s forehead will be. The magic shimmers then shatters, and when the puppeteer returns to full visibility, a scowl twists her pretty painted lips. “You’re no fun.”

Angela nearly rolls her eyes. “I’m plenty of fun. I simply prioritize my work.” 

Sombra huffs and tosses her head, pushing back the hood. Her spiked black hair waves with the motion. “Actually, that just makes you boring. But good work.” 

“Goodbye, Sombra,” Angela says dismissively, waving with the back of her hand as the puppeteer leaves. Her scheduled appointments are over for the day, now to return to-

“Hey lady!”

Angela suppresses a groan. She had hoped to forgo hearing that high, indignant squawk so soon after that night at the castle; it had only been a week ago and the wound is still fresh. Putting on a neutral stare, she turns to face the entrance to get a proper view of Doctor Junkenstein. His limbs are spread wide to take up the entire doorframe, a feat that would be more easily accomplished by the hulking green beast behind him. A fairly impressive display, for a mortal at least, though Angela sees no reason why she shouldn’t be the one taking credit. 

“Hello again, Herr Doktor. Hoping to file a complaint?”

“You know it! A refund, or I smash up the place! Or, Hoggie will.” Junkenstsein steps into the room, the monster following behind obediently.

Angela is about to fire off her no-returns policy before her attention catches on a stray word. “...Hoggie?”

Junkenstein nods, eyes still squinting behind teal goggles. “Needed a nickname. It’s cause he eats like a pig.” The monster snorts behind him, and he tacks on “sounds like one too.”

Angela drifts over to a chair, drawing up her legs and raising one judgmental eyebrow. “A refund. You would like to cancel the deal.”

“That’s right!” 

“Our contract ends, and you are no longer bound to me by favor.”

“Correct!”

“And your monster returns to death.”

“Yep! That’s- Wait!? I never-” Junkenstein sputters indignantly, hands flailing, and Angela tucks a stray lock of hair back into her hat. “Of course not! Never!”

“The spark of life for a favor. That was the deal. If you would so like to cancel it-”

“No way! Absolutely not, you crazy witch!” Junkenstein spins on his heel and starts pushing his monster back out the door, hands braced against his massive gut, though it doesn’t make the monster go any faster and he walks backwards through the exit. The scientist’s rambles are still audible even after the door closes, but Angela has long tuned him out. She takes a long breath, tilting her head when a black wraith swoops in from the back exit. It pauses, and dark mist swirls around it before revealing a disappointingly short figure. Her favorite servant, Reaper, is merely half a meter tall with a head the size of a softball. His voice is higher than usual, but still gravelly. “Why didn’t you just kill him?”

“The monster or the scientist?”

“...Either.”

Angela waves her hand noncommittally. “Junkenstein may seem worthless now, but I still sense potential in him. And the monster would have fallen forwards and broken the table.”

Reaper laughs humorlessly. “Too much of a hassle, then.”

“We are not defeated, simply retreating to conserve our energy. Those four will regret choosing me for an enemy soon enough. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do to get you to grow a little faster.” 

“I’d appreciate it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have 2 different AUs planned but this just... happened. Out of nowhere. I'd say I can't explain it but I can probably place at least a little blame on my recent replay of The Wolf Among Us. and now I'm off to see how many comp games I can fit in before the season ends, ciao. 
> 
> All the love in the world to @Tiramisu_Sumi, who kept me company and helped brainstorm and did the ugly research while I wrote this.


End file.
